


Sleep

by weegee1204



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5852788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weegee1204/pseuds/weegee1204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker has a question for Church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> i originally posted this on my tumblr, you can find it here: http://redteam4lyfe.tumblr.com/post/120311514485/sleep

There wasn’t much to do in Blood Gulch. Stuck in a canyon in the middle of the universe, with very limited access to the outside world, meant that you spent pretty much all of your time with the same group of assholes. And, spending so much time with said assholes, you begin to pick up on their habits. Which is why it wasn’t creepy or obsessive when Tucker posed a certain question to Church.

“Hey Church? Can I ask you something?”

Church looked up from the data pad he was intently studying. He squinted through the dark, only to see the silhouette of his teammate standing in the doorway. Church’s mind initially panicked, wondering what he wanted, hoping to God it wasn’t anything that would make him want to bleach his mind afterwards.  
“Uh, okay, Tucker. What’s up?”

Tucker walked in and promptly flopped on the couch that Caboose insisted they get for the main room. Church scoffed as he squirmed and flipped on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

“Dude, if you wanted a bedtime story, you should’ve asked Caboose.”

“Shut up, asshole. That’s not it.”

“Okay, then what is ‘it’?” Church asked, sighing internally. Tucker always got philosophical when he was tired, and if he asked Church some bullshit question like ‘why are we here?’, he swore he was going to punch Tucker in the nuts.

“Well…” Tucker started, unsure of how to phrase it. “Do you ever think it’s weird… I mean… I’ve never seen you sleep before, y’know?”

Church was confused. This wasn’t the direction he expected this conversation to go in. “Uh, I don’t know, Tucker. I guess you haven’t?”

“See, yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Tucker said, turning on his stomach and looking at Church over the arm of the couch. “And then I started thinking, like, isn’t that weird? I mean, we’ve both been here for years, and I guess I never really thought about it until Caboose showed up, and now there’s actually someone else sleeping in the bunks, but not you. Never you.”

Jesus. Tucker was really rambling now. Church needed to interject or he’d never shut up. “Dude, what’s with the creepy obsession with my sleep schedule all of a sudden?”

“It’s not creepy,” Tucker said indignantly. “Or an obsession. I was just asking-”

“Asking what, Tucker?” Church was getting increasingly annoyed with Tucker’s questions.

“Do you sleep, Church?”

The question silenced the room; Tucker waiting for an answer, Church struggling to form one.  
His first thought was, ‘What a dumbass, of course I do’, but that was immediately followed with the scariest emotion there was: doubt. Meanwhile, Tucker was staring at him expectantly. “Well?”

Church said nothing, as he was suddenly questioning something he’d never even thought about before. Did he sleep? Well, logic said yes, of course he slept, but Church couldn’t remember any times he had gotten into bed after a long day and fallen asleep, couldn’t remember being woken up in the morning by the sound of Caboose breaking something and Tucker refusing to acknowledge it. He thought back to before the war, before Blood Gulch, when he lived in a big white house with Tex, but to be fair, there wasn’t a lot of sleep going on in their bedroom (Bow chicka bow wow). He snapped back to reality when Tucker started talking, realizing too late he had taken too long to formulate an answer.

“I knew it, dude, you totally don’t sleep! Holy shit, that’s so creepy, what do you do, are you a vampire, oh my god that’d be insane, do you drink our blood when we’re asleep? Cause dude, you’re hot and all, but I don’t know how I feel about you sucking me without me knowing, bow chicka bow wow-”

“Tucker!” Church finally shouted. Tucker looked both annoyed at being interrupted and shocked that Church raised his voice. He didn’t shout back, like Church had expected, but instead raised a finger to his lips and jerked his head towards the door to the bunks, from which they could hear Caboose’s snoring and sleep talking. ‘God damn it’, Church thought, but lowered his voice anyway.

“Okay Tucker, you got me. You’re right. I don’t sleep, and I don’t care if you know, but I just don’t get why you care so much anyway.”

Tucker flopped on his back, hiding his face from Church’s view. “Dude, don’t get a big ego. I don’t really care.”

“Oh really, Tucker? You don’t care? Is that why you walked in here at fuck o’ clock in the morning, asking like a hundred questions?” He didn’t give Tucker a chance to respond, and he kept going, his voice not much more than a whisper. “And what do you know, anyway? Maybe it’s not so weird. Maybe there’s a whole bunch of genetically modified people out there who don’t need sleep. It’s called evolution, dude. Get with the program.”

Church knew he sounded defensive, but to be honest, he was. He didn’t know why he didn’t sleep, and thinking about it gave him a disturbed feeling. Like there was a reason he didn’t sleep, but either he couldn’t remember, or he didn’t want to.

“Tucker, dude, just forget about it. Okay? Don’t make this weird. I’m sure that it’s totally normal that I don’t sleep.” No response. “Right?” Still nothing. Church would deny it until the day he died, but his next statement was laced with more than a bit of fear: “Tucker, please tell me it’s normal.”

Church didn’t get a response, and after he stood up, he knew why: Tucker had fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation, with his legs stretched out, hand halfway in his pants. Church watched him breathe for awhile, trying to process how Tucker could’ve come in here, made Church face the doubts he had about his own mortality, then fallen asleep like it was nothing.

He starting walking around the room, stepping lightly so as not to wake his sleeping teammates. His arms swinging, he finally focused on his bare hand, holding it up close to his face. Although it was dark, he could see the tan skin, the callouses on his palm, the tiny hairs on his knuckles. That was a real hand, right? Real hand = real body = real person, right? But still- never sleeping?

Church sighed in frustration, deciding not to wake Tucker back up. The fucker can sleep on the couch after the truth bomb he just dropped on Church. He left the base to walk around the canyon; the previous conversation had left him antsy and wanting to clear his head.

~~~

By the time Tucker stumbled outside the base the next morning, Church was back, standing on the wall like they always did, sniper rifle in hand. Church saw Tucker, but said nothing, hoping that he wouldn’t start shit about last night.

“Man, do you know why I woke up on the couch this morning?” Tucker asked, stretching his sore back. “I don’t know why we let Caboose keep that thing, it’s hard as a fucking rock. I haven’t been this sore since my first menage a trois, bow chicka bow wow.”

Tucker didn’t know why he was on the couch? “Wait, do you not remember last night?”

Tucker shook his head. “Why, what’d I do? Or… what did we do?” he asked, leering slightly. Church gagged.

“Oh god, dude, no. You were just up late last night, and we talked… do you not remember?” Church asked cautiously.

“Really? Nah man, I don’t remember that at all. I must’ve been really out of it.” He laughed. “Did I say anything interesting? Emotional? Inspiring?”

Church weighed his options and made a decision. “Nah man, you just asked me why we’re here or some shit.”


End file.
